The Sark's Story
by Cobalt the SeaWing
Summary: This is a Wolves of they Beyond fanfiction. It is about what happened to the Sark after she departed from the Beyond, her having not believed in anything but memories. It has her recollection of why she became a constellation, and also her change of beliefs.


**This is the story of the Sark, and what happened after she slipped from her pelt, not believing in Lupus or anything magic or heavenly. So, here is her account, of what happened.**

The Sark's Story

No, the Sark did not believe in Lupus, or Saarsguard. No, she didn't believe in the Cave of Souls or the star ladder. And yet, she had turned out to become a constellation. This is her account of what happened.

She was ready to die. She had been for a few days now, but something had kept telling her, _not yet._ So, she had waited. And now, it was finally her time. After everyone had left for the last time, she had begun that one ritual where her soul departed from her body. She didn't know what it was called; _clown heaving,_ or something like that. All she knew, was suddenly, she could move.

She paced the area where her broken pot shards were, ignoring the mangy pelt laying on the ground lifelessly. Then, suddenly, she was being lifted up. She saw each and every memory that ever was in a jar float up. She scrambled her paws, trying to hold on, but she had floated up into the sky. The pot memories, one by one, faded away, until not every many were left. The Sark tried to grab them, to remember, but her paws seemed slippery, and cloud-light. She could move them, but not in the direction she wanted. In fact, she would hardly say _she_ was moving them. They lifted and fell on their own accord. The Sark refused. She would not leave, not go away from her home.

She struggled, trying, trying as hard as she could, to stay where she _belonged._ What was there for her, anyways? Part of the reason she had never believed, was she didn't have anyone waiting. No mother, no father, no siblings. True, her mother was hopefully dead. But the Sark doubted that her mother would go to the "Cave of Souls."

 _More like the Dim World,_ she thought nastily. She fought for what seemed like endless amounts of time, slowly running up, then crawling back down. Soon, she felt another wolf's paws gripped her paws, calling for her.

 _Come,_ he said, his voice smooth as honey. _Come, and we will lead you to your home. Your true home, Retella, is not with the Beyond and your broken memories. It is with us, the wolves of the past. We call you home, Retella. Come with us._ His voice was so coaxing, the Sark almost didn't catch what he had said. _Almost._ Then she gasped, and beat away his paws with her mind. _Retella. Retella. Retella._ That was her true name. She did have a name - something other than what she and countless other creatures thought of her as. She was Retella. The name given to her by her Lupus-forsaken mother. The Sark tilted her head. Since when did Lupus forsaken mean anything to her.

Then she knew. There _was_ a real Cave of Souls, a real Lupus, a real star ladder. A real _Saarsguard._ That was who had tried to pull her up. The Sark looked under her running feet, pounding against the sky. But it wasn't only sky. There were stars -countless stars under her, supporting her. She was running on _stars._ She heard beckoning voice call out for her, but she was suddenly snapped back to her remaining memories, slowly growing dimmer and dimmer.

 _No!_ She thought, and snarled. She leaped after them, focusing everything she had on getting to them.

 _You can't come back!_ The voices whispered. _You'll be stuck - forgotten forever!_ The Sark didn't mind. She didn't mind _at all._ All she needed were her memories. Finally, she broke free from the spell guiding her up, and she was falling, falling, falling back down. Quickly, with almost a mental link, she called her memories to her. They came fast, boosting her up, like a caribou picking the Sark up in it's large antlers and taking off with her.

Instead of heading back up, the memories carried her towards the Distant Blue. The Sark had no idea how she knew it's name - just that it was it's name. The Distant Blue sounded like a Faolan thing, and suddenly the Sark could see him, in her mind's eye. He was running across the ice, Edme, the Whistler, Caila, Abban, Myrr, Banja, Maud, a wolf named Rags, Mharie, and Dearla right beside him. The Sark knew all of their names without knowing them. Somehow, it was possible. The Sark looked down - and there they were! Running, right below her. She watched, joyful, as they ran across the sand and sniffed the new smells of a new world.

…

It had been over a hundred years since that day. She never once regretted turning herself and her memories into stars. She watched as Faolan grew old, along with Edme, and they died at the same time, climbing the star ladder together as paw-fast mates. Oh, how the Sark longed to join them, but she knew she would never be forgotten below. For after all, the stars were all she needed. Gwenneth had died to, and the Sark had watched as she had flew to Glamoura, the owl heaven. She was proud of her old friend, and she longed to join her, too.

Two hundred years, three hundred years passed, as the Sark watched new life grow, and old life die. Suddenly, the Sark felt a tug in her long-lost marrow. A voice was calling her: wait, no, several voices. She looked up to the heavens; the constellation blinked to all the creatures below; and she saw all of her friends gathered together.

 _Come on Sark!_ Whined Faolan, wagging his starry tail.

 _Yeah Sark!_ Echoed Edme, Gwenneth, and the Whistler.

 _No, no,_ she said sadly to her old friends. _I have a new life, a new time. Feel free to visit me though. I am very lonely down here,_ she said, a reference to being lower than the heavens, _but the life on Blue Wilderness has sustained my needs for companionship. You shall not turn like me,_ she said playfully, as they glanced at one another and then back at her. _You shall appear as shooting stars, ones that are visiting us permanent ,_ she said, remembering Saarsguard those long years ago. _Come join me._


End file.
